This week, when Professor Inouye talked about the word “shashin写真”, I suddenly realize that it’s a very interesting word. I’ve already known that it means photographs, but when looking at the two kanjis, I can imagine a person performing drawings very carefully to mimic the beauty of nature through his own emotion. Later, when I was reading Haikus by Basho, I felt like his haikus and paragraphs are also different kinds of “shashin”. I was traveling with him and looking for the beauty of most fundamental things in different ancient places. He had great observation to connect natural and living things, such as saffron blossoms and lady’s powder puff (Basho, 92), summer grass and brave soldiers (Basho, 84). At the time you are trying to record the moment of nature beauty, you “hide” your own understanding and emotion into the art you did (either drawing and writing). These art forms not only help you understand nature (object) and yourself (subject) better, people who see your art forms later will also gain their own valuable thoughts. That’s the magic of “shashin”.

Yesterday afternoon, I was on the Red Line T passing over Charles River.

Sunlight on the river

You are different­­－

Every day

In this week’s lecture, Professor Inouye talked about the role of prostitutes in Japanese culture. These women were in a special social position in ancient Japan: They traveled a lot, frequently got in touch with strangers from various places and with different occupations. It was a new form of social interaction at that time. Some well-known courtesans in history lived such a dramatic life that even nowadays people are curious about their stories. But from their own perspective of their life, they were fragile and pathetic like cherry blossom. They got the feeling of “floating world” more deeply than any other people (Saikaku, 212). They met several thousand of men in their career, but it was much harder for them to find love compared to normal women. They had to fight for love. That was partially the answer that why their love stories are intricate and touching. Men were judged by society to take these girls off the shelf, while these outstanding girls were picked out with the greatest care before and desired men’s mercy (Saikaku, 210). In this evanescent world, everything changes with time, especially, women’s beauty.

In Basho’s journey, when sorrowful changes happen–drama of seasons, illness and separation from partners— he is always calm and faces them frankly. Basho’s attitude towards evanescence is based on his acceptance and understanding of form. Basho’s journey is like the path to truth, experiencing bitterness and moving along through the way of Justice and attempting to achieve the truth, or kata. During his journey, after resting poorly in an old hut, he and Sora keep the journey on and he writes the following:

“I felt uneasy over my illness, recalling how far away our destination was, but I reasoned with myself that when I started out on this journey to remote parts of the country it was with an awareness that I was risking my life. Even if I should die on the road, this would be the will of heaven” (Basho 62).

This monologue shows that Basho has realized the possibility that he might die on the road to Oku. Nevertheless, he accepts this realization fearlessly, because he admits that death is one of the forms he has to follow. Basho shows that, while people learn to accept and follow kata by embracing evanescence, they are not afraid of evanescence anymore, though sorrow remains. In the last several pages of the book, Sora has to stop the journey with Basho because of stomach illness. Before Sora leaves, he writes a poem for Basho:

All through the night

I listened to the autumn wind

In the hills behind (Basho 57)

and Basho writes, “Though but a single night separated us, it was as if by a thousand miles. That night I too lay sleepless in the priest’s study hall listening to the autumn wind” (Basho 128). Knowing and accepting that they must part, two men have a silent farewell. Evanescence does not disturb them so much, but brings more sorrow into their lives. It is not so sad to know what change is coming, but it is sad to realize that you cannot do anything to change that situation. Because people cannot change the fact of evanescent life, after they know the truth, they go back to the secular life and live with that sorrow and calmness. Basho and Sora, two men who understand and accept kata and evanescence, find sorrow in their heart, but are able to continue the journey.

After reading Bushido, I highlight several reasons why Bushido vanished during the modernization of Japanese society. Firstly, I think samurai’s loyalty limited their ability to assimilate into the new world. Each samurai is loyal to his master. As mentioned in the text, this loyalty is like the “bone that gives firmness and stature.” (Nitobe 37). It is this loyalty that makes samurai a samurai. However, as the society is modernized, as people need to face more and more strangers, a samurai’s loyalty only makes him personally defensive but not open to the new world. Some of the ways of samurais show their loyalty are also unacceptable from a modern aspect, for example, the story of Michizane, who sacrifices his own son to serve his master. Moreover, although Bushido emphasizes on rectitude, which is similar to the idea of Justice we claim in the modern society, the concept it gives is quite vague. In the text, it said, “Rectitude is the power of deciding upon a certain course of conduct in accordance with reason, without wavering; to die when it is right to die, to strike when to strike is right.” (Nitobe 37). However, this definition does not give a clear statement about when is right to die and when is right to strike. Rectitude is based on feelings such as consciousness and instinct, whereas in modern society, we need to clearly distinguish between does and do nots. So we invent laws and policies to define such an edge, using terms instead of feelings to make judgments. Apart that lack of distinction, Bushido still has several elements that are practiced in modern society. The calmness, the system of education and individualism are all precious values that were inherited from Bushido’s history and will continue to influence Japanese society in the future.

After reading the The Nō Plays of Japan, I watched the Noh Theater video again because I thought I can could have a different feeling and maybe deeper understanding of the play after I read its script. The second time of watching does its work. I realize that, compared to presenting the story to audiences, the Noh Theater is much more focused on the kata of its play. The steps, singing and even those small gestures like tilting of the head are presented in certain forms. So here I have a question: why does the Noh Theater shows the nothingness? How can nothingness have a form? In Evanescence and Form, it said, “The fixed leads to the brilliant fluid” (Inouye 66). This gives me a hint to think about the fluidity of the Noh Theater. I think the futility does not mean physical movements or visible expressions. In the play, the climax is still and silent. There is no physical movement but the audience’s heart and mind are working. When everything is still, it gives the empty space to the mind to move on. The repetition of the form settles everything on the stage down (even something that are not on the stage). The form fixed the movement. The still and silence give the nothingness.

This week gave the class a taste of some Japanese culture. The theme that I sense I will see a lot this semester is the notion that life is ever changing; nothing in life is permanent. The example that was used in Evanescence & Form is love. The book states that, “Love becomes a game that is no more stable despite its many rules.” I don’t believe that for a second; albeit I would like to qualify that statement. It is true that love does change, as do the seasons do with each year. It is not true that just because love changes, it does not mean it is not constant. The factor that seems to be what ruins love, makes it magical. It is within love you can change yourself, and the others under its spell. Love does change. It does not need to be for the worst it could be for the better. Kamis are placed on things that are not constant. The sumo wrestler champion will not always be the supreme, but he is still worthy of praise. I would but a Kami on love. It is worthy to be noticed, revered, but in the end appreciated for what it is.

After watching Grave of the Fireflies the main theme that resounded the most with me was the notion of nothingness / nihilism. Seita and Setsuko lose everything and cannot find a place for themselves in society. At one point of the picture, they use fireflies to illuminate their bomb shelter. The insects having short mature life spans died and they create a grave for them. This action causes them to ultimately ask. “Why do fireflies die so soon?” The lyricism of fireflies representing their own young demises, which is the same as fireflies as they reach maturity.

It is also worth noting that ,“along with the unconditional surrender that soon followed, the holocaust caused a disruption of the meta-narratives of modernization and Japan’s invincibility. This break with the transcendental order returned Japan to nothingness (Inouye, 146).” The return to nothingness is seen within the movie as the children have to survive on their own. It is interesting to see that after Seita and Setsuko are kicked out of society, they still follow its rules.

When they are left with their backs against the wall, they still depend on what they have learned from society and in returning to nothingness they are perhaps returning to their true selves.